This is a little ridiculous. A grown, married woman ogling over a grown married man. Ever since I first saw Mr. Craig (don’t you love a man with two first names?) in Casino Royale, he just had that certain panache. He was rugged, handsome, got dirty, wounded, tortured even. He fell in love, was scorned. He seemed cool and collected, but pained and vulnerable all at the same time. I could go on.

His other movies I find him the same. Not the same as in, always plays the same character type-casty stuff. But the same layers of intrigue and humanity. He just seems real to me. Not a caricature.

And maybe because he’s English, I have a soft spot for him. Okay, every spot on me is soft, but still, a British accent, with THAT body AND cleverness? Hummina hummina.

My mom doesn’t approve. She thinks he looks like Putin. My friend Christin thinks he’s always trying to do Blue Steel ala Zoolander style. My other friend Jen, says he does nothing for her. This, my friends, is not a problem. I don’t care what you think of him, I enjoy him. So I will gladly drool over him by myself.

So in my 40s I’m allowed a lust card. You know, a ‘Go Directly to GO and collect $200′ card. He’s on the CARD. He is THE CARD.

If Daniel Craig walks up to me and starts unbuttoning my blouse, McSweetie is just going to have to step aside. Just step aside McSweetie and look the other way, this might be hard to watch. Maybe I could be a Bond girl. Not the kind that dies in the last two movies, but a kickass agent who wears couture, then gets it unzipped by 007. Then shoots a few bad guys. But nothing with heights please. I’m scared of heights. Or maybe a Bond girl that dances in Spanx and swings off rope swings over pools?

After Daniel and I have our little rendezvous, he and McSweetie can share a pint of Guinness and discuss Liverpool football. The soccer kind.

Okay, so I’m not going to sleep with Daniel Craig! Sheesh! Easy there folks and your extra-marital judgeyness.

BUT let’s just say Ellen Degeneres arranges for me to have tea with Daniel somewhere in a quiet cafe outside of London. He can talk about soccer, acting, his beautiful and talented wife Rachel Weisz (hate her) and then he can give me an Omega watch and sign my boobs. I mean, he can give me a signed Bond script or something!

So I made this video of me doting on Daniel. I’m hoping it will go viral and find him in his cozy abode outside London. He’ll call me, or email me, and we can be friends. Friends that snog each other in alley ways. Okay, I’m KIDDING!

Still, do me a favor. Spread the word. Send smoke signals, tweet those tweets. Let Daniel know that I love him and will carry his children! Actually, I won’t, I don’t want to be pregnant again. But if he has a dog, or some other smallish pet, I can carry that for him. And his groceries.